


(villified)

by totaldwama



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Unreliable Narrator, objects treated as humans... nika calls a knife "them", this is really disjointed and nasty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totaldwama/pseuds/totaldwama
Summary: but difficulty comes with the attempt to reconcile as difficulty comes with all things





	(villified)

**Author's Note:**

> word vomit i wrote at midnight today. it isn't any good but i wanted to post it.

It isn't the first time you've been here.

You've counted them all before. You can't remember how many there are exactly, but you're sure however many there are, it's foul. 

foul like unholy words scrawled in the margins of a bible by a reluctant child

You know some of them by name. There's your favorite, she named them after you, she'll whisper sweet little things into the blade while you stand by unnoticed, metal drawn against her lips like she plans to cut them.

You're curious if you're the object of her affections, or if the object of her affections is just... an object. Are you an object? Does your surpising lack of free will prevent you from constituting as a whole person? Because you know deep inside you could do it, you could leave it all behind and let bygones be bygones,

but difficulty comes with the attempt to reconcile as difficulty comes with all things

BUT SOMETHING just doesn't fit about that, and it's not to you, it's to whoever they really are.

You trace the edge of the table with a sly fingertip and your thoughts border on scandalous as you reconsider the appeal of a slate gray screen that leaves everyone to rot when they get what they really want.

Maybe you're not what they really want? Maybe you're for her, and that can be your fun little twist. Maybe you can turn to the camera with a wide smile and say "surprise!" and leave the other two giggling to themselves as

your captor's face darkens and they look to their fellows for guidance nobody can help them they're not alone but they miss you so much everyone loves you and misses you why won't you come back they suppose it's fair to leave them alone after everything you did and maybe it's justified but they cry

As the third's face falls and somebody wishes

to change the past they dreamed that rain lashed against the windows while their diary burned in the corner instead of clouds crossing across a sunlit sky dandelions framing two rabbits bounding in a meadow as they slipped reluctantly into a burningly cold river while rocks scarred their mud stained pale ankles

And somebody wishes that it all was different?.

something goes forward and prays alongside its prose while it contemplates the audacity of its words and the reality of their oncoming euthanasia like night dark smoke collects at the edges of its victims eyes tinted red with sweet bliss

Shadows shift across her form and you step over her. Disgusting, this is. She doesn't even have the decency to put her toys away once she's done playing with them.

You pick up your favorite of her toys and draw it across the back of her hand, leaving a lasting reminder that at the end of the day it's not how bad the fire is, it's how much water is left in the sea. 

Regret slides through your body like scissors through paper as she stirs and her life pools on the floor. Fear sparks near your head like a snap in your direction when her bleary eyes open and her vision draws gradually up shadow-bathed legs to settle firmly away from your eyes.

You can tell when you don't make eye contact, she knows. She admits it with a sigh and an air of apathy settles over the room. You will her to go back to sleep but she's stronger than you in a way that

rubs you the wrong way while she rubs you the right way and pearly white skin is torn by a falling stone while it laughs behind you it doesn't really know how you feel but the difference is you don't either though the both of you idiots move in the same way

IN A WAY THAT just really doesn't sit well in your far-gone, rose gold mind.

She is an "it" to them, in the way that you are to yourself. A fun thing to mess with until they get bored, you suppose. She is a lot more, and she's unconcious still. You wonder if in her wild delirium you're like a hallucination to her, a misty figure in the distance as red fades to brown on her sheets and she struggles with the desire to let it be and the knowledge that all the stars we see are already dead (and in the eight minutes it took you to find that out the lightbulb broke) writhes in the back of her heartless mind. YOU wonder if it was legitimate at all, if strangledly blank eyes even opened to be met with your figure or if it's all a dream and the only thing you've left her with is something she'll have covered up by morning.

it tears at your essence because you are a cowardly fool who can't accept the truth wrought by the ancient infidels sparing you from infinite sorrow by leaving you alone and powerful instead of guarded and powerless even if you really want to know if it's worth all the effort for a game they'll laugh at behind your back even if the one thing you really want is to just get all of them to shut up 

You aren't a person to deal with your fellows, rather you prefer to leave them to 

your

Their own devices. And just enjoy things as they happen. You won't step in. Not unless you need to. And sometimes you need to. That's what she doesn't ever understand. Not them, not her, not it, not her

but the difference between you and them is nonexistent and you would rather not acknowledge it. shame on you. shame on you. shame on you.

And sometimes you'd rather somebody stuck to their own worthless pattern. And sometimes you'd rather SOMEBODY WAS QUIET WHILE YOU LEFT HER TO BLEED ON A COLD WHITE FLOOR WHERE NOTHING REALLY MATTERS. YOU ARE GOD AND SHE IS A BREATHLESS ANGEL BUT YOU STRIPPED AWAY EVERYTHING THAT MADE HER HOLY AND WENT AWAY ON A BUSINESS TRIP TO HAVE A LATE-NIGHT CONVERSATION WITH SOMEBODY SHE TRUSTED YOU NEVER TO CONFIDE IN.

MAYBE IT'S THE RECENT INDULGENCE IN POP CULTURE I FAVOR BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT ENTERTAIN THE THOUGHT OF TELLING YOU NOTHING, JUST WHAT I WANT YOU TO DO.

And maybe it's just that which destroys your will to live, love

it's that we are the same, it's because i'm the President now it's because Somebody knows they can Learn A Lesson if i Write in the way that so Befits a coward of my stance  
But perhaps some people should stay in their lane. It doth not befit one such as thyself to be such a useless and ungodly fool. and you know in your heart that's the one thing you can't avoid Especially when it comes to you AND AN ADMISSION OF TRUE HEARTFELT EMOTIONS is something one such as yourself (villified) would so struggle to produce knowing that You are the reason everything went so badly for everyone.

Disjointed thoughts rush through my head weakly as I demonize she who steps toward me with villanous flare and a steely click. court-wise the building isn't much to you but you struggle with the legality of your actions regardless and remember how your heart pounds as i bound toward you in an open field and how scandalous it all is, how gently the words echo from her to you and how roughly i force you to repeat mine. HOW A DREAM OF CONCIOUSNESS is enough to break the Silence between us and CURE US OF THE ILLNESS WHICH SO TAINTS HER LIFELESS CORPSE.

you knew i had an affinity for the impossible though how they would have reacted would have pained you. how a giddy self insert would have derailed your already befouled work. how none of us

 

Really, how one reacts to such things is up to oneself (villi

fied in the way that Nobody said was alright.

f


End file.
